


— you dont have to know what to say or what to think.

by ventislyre



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Bringing Attention To Makoto's Trauma, Comfort, Dangan Ronpa Spoilers, Emotional, For THH, He Isn't All Rainbows And Smiles, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Junko Half-Failed, Komaeda Comforts Naegi, M/M, Only The First Killing Game Happened, Post-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Sad Naegi Makoto, Self-Hatred, Self-Loathing Naegi Makoto, Self-Worth Issues, Supportive Komaeda Nagito, The World Isn't In Despair Though, Trauma, not edited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25984048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ventislyre/pseuds/ventislyre
Summary: After the first killing game, Nagito is there to comfort Makoto.
Relationships: Komaeda Nagito/Naegi Makoto
Comments: 20
Kudos: 139





	— you dont have to know what to say or what to think.

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU, Junko's plan didn't fully work and the world didn't go into despair, so only the first killing game happened.
> 
> Please read the tags in case there is something you are uncomfortable with!
> 
> Title is a line from the song 'Talk To Me' by Cavetown.

They did it. After all this time, they finally managed to beat Junko Enoshima.

As Makoto opened the doors of the academy, noise immediately filled his ears, lights flashing from every angle. An overwhelming amount of people had shown up: it varied from police officers, parents and guardians, doctors, news reporters and even lower/upperclassmen. The academy had been so lonely, so quiet, that he couldn't help but stumble back in both shock and fear. The teens had just escaped an absolute hellhole, this was **way** too much for them right now (well, at least for Makoto). Even seeing his family wouldn't help right now.

Before anybody could reach him and bombard him with questions, Makoto slipped his way out of the group and rushed to the side of the building. Tears brimmed his eyes as he leaned against the wall, slowly going down against it until he was sat on the floor.

He was having a hard time accepting everything - Mukuro, Sayaka, Leon, Chihiro, Mondo, Ishimaru, Hifumi, Celestia, Sakura, they were all dead. Along with Junko, but he couldn't care less about her. Surely, he could have saved them all, right? If only he had been braver, stronger, more aware, everybody would have been safe.

...This was all **his** fault.

A frustrated sigh was let out while tears finally began to pour. Distressed, the brunette shut his eyes tight and tugged on his hair, just wanting to disappear. Everybody had every damn right to blame it all on him! He should have done something! He could have done something! 

But he didn't. Because he didn't, his classmates were dead. They weren't going to come back.

A light hand landed on his arm and a sudden whisper beside his ear,

"You did well,"

* * *

Nagito had seen it all from the broadcast on TV. He wasn't going to lie, the idea of being trapped inside a school, with absolutely no way of getting out, then being expected to kill the people he had been friends with was not something he would ever want to do. He couldn't imagine how stressful it would have been for a specific student - Makoto Naegi. Even though he was just looking at him through the screen, he could tell that he was under a lot of pressure. 

Kyoko seemed to know most of what happened in each case, but wasn't keen on talking to the others about her conclusions (kind of selfish if you asked Nagito), so it was all Makoto's job to lead the rest of the group in the right direction. All on the spot, too. One wrong thing and they could have all died, so how the younger boy managed to handle it all amazed him. He **must** be superhuman or something! Much better than what he was, he believed.

Without a doubt, the white haired boy was intrigued by Makoto. He would have done whatever he could to help him out, so when the news that the survivors were about to escape, he headed over to the school as soon as he could. Of course, lots of people were already surrounding the entrance, so he just stayed away on the side (not like anybody would let somebody like him pass anyways, right?).

From that very moment he arrived, he watched. Watched as the survivors exited the school, watched as the crowd of people grew closer and louder, watched as a certain brunette escaped from the spotlight. Not able to help himself, Nagito began to follow him: he soon learned that he would not regret that choice, as he witnessed the boy slowly break down right in front of him. Right there, right then, he felt so stupid. Everybody had a breaking point, nobody could just be happy all the time, no matter how hard they tried to hide it, and Makoto was **not** an exception to that. The older boy was really damn dumb to believe that he was an exception, but now, he realised. His underclassman probably needs some support right now.

Cautiously, the white haired boy approached the sobbing one and gently placed his hand on his arm, and whispered a simple three letter phrase.

“You did well,”

* * *

Once Makoto heard those three words, he opened his eyes in shock - how did he not realise this person? Quickly wiping away his tears and showing a small smile, he replied,

“Thank you,”

Then silence. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, looking anywhere but the stranger’s face. They must have realised the awkward situation they put him in and sighed, removing their hand and reaching out for his.

“Do you want a hug?”

A hug from somebody he didn’t know? A hug from somebody who just walked up to him out of nowhere? A hug from a random person off the street? No way he would-

“Yes, please.” he croaked out and looked back at the stranger, who he could now successfully identify as male, and placed his hand in his.

The white haired boy smiled and assisted the boy up on his feet. The stranger opened his arms and Makoto accepted, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his head against his chest. The taller boy responded by leaning closer to him and hugging the top half of his body; the hug was warmer than the brunette had anticipated and the stranger’s presence was oddly calming.

Despite this, Makoto couldn’t help but burst into tears again and just hugged him tighter. They stayed like that, the nameless boy occasionally running his hand through the shorter’s hair. He felt guilty for making his shirt wet from tears; he knew he couldn’t stop them, yet felt guilty nonetheless.

“Hey, hey. Makoto. Everything’s okay now,” the white haired boy reassured. “You’re out of there, you’re never going to see Junko again. Everything is over, you’re not endangered anymore. Right now, you’re with me, just me. Nobody is against you,”

“B-But-”

“But? Take your time. You can say whatever you want, nobody will judge you. You went through a lot.,”

“I-I could have… I could have-”

“Saved them?”

“Mhm…”

The taller boy ruffled Makoto’s hair, bringing him closer, almost like he was trying to protect him from something.

“No, you couldn’t have.”

“Wha-What?”

“If nobody died, you would probably still be in there. They all sacrificed themselves to help you escape, Makoto.”

“No, no, I-” he began, then gripped the white haired stranger’s shirt. “I-I should have… **I** should have been the one dead. I’m- I’m nothing s-special, the-they’re all so much be-bet-better than me,”

“Makoto,” he whispered.

“You’re the one who got them out of there. You did so much, much more than you give yourself credit for. You’re **amazing**.”

Before Makoto could begin to speak again, the tall boy patted his head and continued to whisper words of encouragement until he felt it was right to stop. Within a few minutes, the brunette had calmed down (excluding the few sniffles here and there). The duo stayed silent for a while, then Makoto spoke up,

“Thank you, um,”

“Nagito Komaeda,”

“Thank you, Nagito, I needed that,”

The words were slightly muffled as Makoto had refused to back away yet.

“Don’t worry about it, you shouldn’t thank somebody as insignificant as me,”

Makoto shook his head and gave the boy he was hugging a tight squeeze.

“Thank you. Nagito.” he replied sternly in an attempt to get his point across.

“...Fine. No problem, Makoto.”

The latter pulled away from Nagito, looking up at him. He was unsure of what to say, so just decided to go with the first thing that came to mind.

“Sorry about your shirt-” he apologised with a tint of pink on his cheeks.

The white haired boy stared at him blankly, as if in deep thought, then broke into a quiet chuckle. Surely there was nothing funny about a ruined shirt, so why was he laughing?

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, I just-”

“You just?”

“I didn’t think you would be **this** short,” he laughed.

“I-!”

“Don’t worry about my shirt, shortie. I can just wash it.”

Makoto nodded, but still had a tinge of guilt in his eyes.

“You should probably go see the other’s now. They’re probably getting worried,” said Nagito.

“Wait- but will I get to see you again?”

“I’m sure of it; we’ll **definitely** see each other soon. Then, we can talk properly.”

“...Promise?”

Makoto put up his pinky and showed it to the other boy. Nagito happily put his pinky up and intertwined it with his.

“I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Woah, I hope you liked it >< I'm trying to show people that the killing game is literal trauma for Makoto too, and I think I did an okay job at showing that here (I could definitely write more about it though).


End file.
